


missing pieces

by fuwaesthetic



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, handholding and kissing and making out, includes both first year and second year so have fun with that, minor characters include: subaru's mom; wataru; the rest of the oddballs in mention, natsume sakasaki philosophizing about mankind while getting touched, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 04:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19265998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuwaesthetic/pseuds/fuwaesthetic
Summary: “Am I that comfy?” Subaru whispers poorly as ever, and his grin teases out a scowl from Natsume. He raises his hands as Natsume moves forward, laughing loudly (then slapping his hand over his mouth to quell it) when Natsume bumps face first into the telescope with a soft swear.Natsume, red-faced, turns around and shoves him down.It’s not what he expects. The moonlight through the window, with the shadows of the fluttering curtains, dancing shadows across Subaru’s face; the dark cut of his own hair shading part of it too, asymmetrically drawn over an eye. Natsume stares down, breath winding tight between his ribs, and leans in.





	missing pieces

**Author's Note:**

> the fanfiction formerly known as "questions". i've always considered retitling it and now i've just gotten around to it...
> 
> anyway, thank you for all the kudos and support! i'm glad so many people liked this fic c:

As someone who makes information his trade, it’s natural that Natsume knows Subaru gets nervous in the dark. He doesn’t know why–the workings of the human mind aren’t as easy to know, though he can rustle up a few guesses–but he’s seen the way he quickens his steps to catch up with Natsume when early summer’s light begins to diminish. He doesn’t hate the company, so he doesn’t dismiss him out of hand; he doesn’t think he could stand the look on Subaru’s face, even if it might be interesting to see it just once. A few extra errands has them leaving when the sun’s dipped completely beneath the horizon, dark red blurring with the navy of the sky. Natsume stares at the colors, a few brief stars beginning to shine among them, and feels Subaru’s hand brush his.

“Let’s walk home together, Naaatsume~.”

“We don’t live in the same direcTION,” he replies after a moment of thought, glancing over. Subaru’s eyebrows press together and he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, glancing at the sky. Natsume does too, then at the road ahead, where the streetlights slowly begin to flicker to life. He sighs, sliding his hands into his coat, and tilts his head. “It isn’t going to be that DARK, Subaru-kun. Look–”

“What makes you think the dark has anything to do with it?” Subaru asks immediately, bouncing ahead. “Maybe I just want to walk home with you~! We’re friends after all, right? Friends do that!”

Friends. Natsume doesn’t like labels, especially ones that warm his chest–sure, he was the one who proposed it to Subaru first, but for it to have actually stuck… No, he shouldn’t be so surprised. It’d been his intention to get on his good side after all, to find a use for him, though maybe, a little, he’d begun to let this friendship of theirs run a little longer than intended…

“You can just come to my house,” Subaru continues after a moment, stepping closer again. “Mom wants to meet you anyway! I’ve told her a lot about you, and about your mother… She says she remembers her.”

“Mommy isn’t a very forgettable perSON,” he agrees idly, _Mom wants to meet you_ and _I’ve told her a lot about you_ catching in his ears the way his own words do for those untrained in the dark arts. He watches Subaru, the way he rocks on his heels while he waits–an existence that’s unable to stay still, restlessly by way of nuclear and nervous fission–how he melts halfway into the darkness, grinning in a way that makes the edges of his eyes turn up with it as practiced as the pirouette of a ballerina. He feels his shoulders lower, the night’s oncoming cool brushing the back of his neck with the motion, and looks away again. “…You’re going to bother me until I agree anyWAY, so I might as well give in now and spare myself the headACHE. Lead the WAY, Subaru-kun.”

Subaru’s face lights up and he snags Natsume’s arm, swinging him around for a moment before he tugs him along with a laugh. “Great, great! Hey, do you want to stay for dinner? We’re having leftovers, but–”

And so on and so forth, he prattles on as they walk; arm in arm turns to hand in hand, Subaru’s fingers warmly locked with his, Natsume’s gaze unable to leave the place he can feel they connect at despite the darkness that hides them; only streetlights offer him a glimpse of his hand in Subaru’s, his manicured nails beside Subaru’s cut to messy (in comparison) shortness. The Akehoshi household comes sooner than expected, especially with Subaru’s cheer and the way he pulls him quicker with a bounce in his step, and Natsume stumbles after him not unlike an ungainly duckling–he starts to snap at him, embarrassment flush on his cheeks, but the door opens and Subaru lets go of his hand to dive into his mother’s arms instead.

Natsume watches and ignores the cold that slips between his ribs and curls against the palm of his hand.

Subaru’s mother is kind like her son, warm like him; it puts him on edge as much as it seeks to calm him, gently worn hands guiding him to sit for dinner, reminding him guests don’t need to do anything. Subaru, brighter than Natsume’s ever seen him, follows his mother around like a puppy, helping her bring things out, set things up, pulling out her chair with a laugh at the way she teases his good manners only showing up when someone else is in the house.

Their eyes crinkle up at the edges in the same way. Natsume wonders how much of _his_ mother he’s absorbed the way Subaru has his.

“Allow me to help clean UP,” he insists, a second time; it’s the least he could do to repay her for the meal, and she relents when he adds, softer, he wants to talk to her. He can feel the way Subaru’s eyes linger on them, and when he turns his head slightly, he catches curiosity swimming in neutron blue–and he turns forward again, his own gaze straight ahead.

“I remember Akehoshi-san,” Natsume begins once they’re well into conversation, well into washing, when it’s comfortable and casual enough to simply bring things up. “I don’t remember much about HIM, but I do remember HIM. Subaru-kun and he are alike in some WAYS.”

“He takes after his father,” she agrees after a pause. Her smile is a little sadder, a little less evident around her eyes, in the lines around her lips. _Just like Subaru,_ he thinks, and gently rubs dry the plate she hands him. “You take after your mother, from what I remember him saying. Has anyone told you that?”

Plenty of people have; even his mommy has. It’s something he takes pride in, considering her talents, her genius, her fame, her capricious nature–but it sounds different, coming from her, and he laughs softly with a small nod. She laughs too, her smile a little richer with it, and shakes her head.

“That was a very stupid question, wasn’t it? I’m sure you hear it all the time.”

He nods again, turning his head just a fraction to see Subaru idling by the doorway; he’s watching them with an openly curious look, head tilted slightly the way Daikichi’s does when he sees something new, and Natsume’s lips curve upwards slightly as he turns back to drying. “I don’t MIND. I’m very proud of my momMY… She’s been my idol for as long as I can rememBER. I’ve always wanted to take after HER, so it pleases me to hear you think I HAVE.”

Akehoshi-san is about to reply when Subaru–evidently tired of waiting–skips in, bodily slamming into him; Natsume holds his ground just barely, hands raising a plate gripped tightly between them with a towel, and he scowls. Akehoshi-san stops washing too, resting against the sink with her eyebrow quirked up and her arms crossing; her shirt’s getting damp from the silverware she has in her hand, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Natsume turns his face, not sure how much he likes the closeness to someone so unbearably warm, so much the sun it’s almost painful.

“Just what do you think you’re doING, Subaru-kun?”

“You came over to hang out with me, Natsume! Not my mom! Come ooon, let’s go upstairs and watch a movie! Or play a game! Or see how many things we can put on Daikichi before he wakes up!”

Subaru tugs on his waist until he relents, apologizing to Akehoshi-san (who shakes her head and thanks him for the company; she’ll finish up here) before he lets himself be dragged upstairs. Subaru’s arms don’t leave him until the door is shut firmly behind them–even then they linger a moment, then fall to his sides. Natsume brushes himself off idly, scanning the room with analytical intent.

It’s modest, with a single bed (for humans) and a single bed (for dogs); there’s enough space to put down a futon, something he presumes will happen if he ends up staying over for the night, and a surprisingly wide window across the room. Fairy lights string their way across the walls and ceiling like stars, and a telescope rests against the wall for the same purpose. A small television sits to one side, a phone charger laid carelessly beside it, and Daikichi pokes his head out of the bed (for humans) with a happy bark.

Natsume obliges him, sitting beside the dog and scratching him between his ears fondly as Subaru digs around his shelves for something to do.

“Do you have any videos of your father’s conCERTS?” He asks after rejecting Subaru’s third choice in movies (a comedy about aliens, or something like that), and he can _see_ Subaru hesitate before he nods, sliding down to the next shelf.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

They throw one on and tuck in (literally, the blanket pulled over their legs and Daikichi a welcome warmth and barrier between them beneath it), and Natsume leans forward, chin tucked into his hand as he studies the man on stage. Subaru really does take after him, a star too radiant for the world it was born into; far too beautiful, dazzlingly bright and glittering, beckoning awed smiles with its own magic spell. Subaru looks more demure, watching his father, and Natsume supposes that’s only to be expected.

These are the most solid memories he has of him, after all.

It’s late by the time the concert ends; it’d been late when they’d started, after all, and time passes quicker when one watches another’s face, categorically noting down the newest differences in it. He barely looks away before Subaru looks over, gaze training on the credits at the bottom of the screen that mean very little to him; some names are familiar, from his mother’s work, her meetings and such, but they mean little to him. What means anything to him is the brilliant orange star grinning at the camera, and his son that leans forward to hit stop on his player, turning the tv screen a pitch black with the lack-of picture. Natsume blinks slightly, refocusing, and doesn’t have time to ask why before Subaru’s standing up, stretching (his shirt, now untucked, stretching with him, revealing a sliver of smooth skin Natsume’s gaze lingers on with the swell of something in his throat).

“We should get to sleep, huh~. Hey, Natsume, you wanna stay over? I’m pretty sure we have a futon… Hold on, let me ask Mom!”

And he’s gone with Daikichi at his heels before Natsume can refute having a sleepover; his ears burn, irritated and mortified all in one go, and he migrates to the wide window to open it and lean out it for a little bit. The night chill is welcome on his cheeks, on his neck, even if Subaru whines at him when he returns that it’s cold (even though isn’t _that_ cold, in his opinion). Natsume turns halfway, following his shadow on the floor and then Subaru’s on the other side, catching his look with a frown.

“I didn’t even say I was going to stay oVER,” he retorts, aware the conversation is several minutes old. “It isn’t something I can DO, nor am I interested in IT.”

“Then why come over?” Subaru asks, dropping the futon onto the floor unceremoniously. Natsume opens his mouth, then closes it and wets his lips. He debates telling him the real reason, that he’d simply wanted to talk to his mother, but he shakes his head and turns back to the open window; he reaches out to take the open panes and barely manages with his fingertips, drawing them a little more closed.

“As I SAID, you’d bother me into agreeing anyWAY, so I simply cut to agreeING. I didn’t say that I’d have anything like a sleepoVER.”

“If you really didn’t want to stay over, I wouldn’t make you.” Subaru sounds pouty; he _looks_ pouty, when Natsume glances over his shoulder, and he quickly turns ahead again when Subaru lifts his gaze from the floor. “But I really, really want you to! Please? We’re friends, right?”

 _And friends stay over at each other’s houses, right?_ lays unspoken in the phrase, leaving his skin pricked and the air heavy with hope. Natsume swallows a breath, hands falling from the partially open window. Maybe he _had_ let this friendship run too long, as he thought; but he still hadn’t gotten what he wanted out of it, (whatever that is–he can’t remember right now, with Subaru calling his name softly, with his own throat a little tighter with emotion) and he struggles with himself for a moment before he closes his eyes. He draws a slow breath, turns to meet Subaru, and nods.

“We ARE. I was just worried it was on short noTICE… My mommy and daddy will probably be a little upset that I didn’t let them know beforeHAND, but they’re good peoPLE. It’s not likely they’ll force me to go back HOME.” Which is the truth; he can’t imagine either of them being anything less than ecstatic that he’d befriended the son of the great idol Akehoshi. “Allow me to call home and tell them I’m staying oVER.”

The crease in Subaru’s forehead disappears immediately, and he grins and abolishes the distance between them with a tackle that sends Natsume hard against the edge of the window; he catches himself at least, one hand bracing him against the sill and the other grabbing Subaru’s shirt, and he opens his mouth to start on him before Subaru buries his face into his shoulder, hugging him tight enough to make him lose his train of thought. 

He thinks he hears Subaru thank him, but it’s too soft to discern against his jacket, and Subaru’s set on spreading out the futon with a happy hum by the time Natsume recovers from the overwhelming physical affection. Natsume ignores the hard beating of his heart, shedding his jacket and folding it carefully; he finally untucks his shirt, plucking the buttons free and pausing halfway when he feels Subaru’s eyes on him. When he looks over to ask him what he wants, Subaru’s gaze shoots away (the worst at pretending he hadn’t been staring) and he motions to his dresser, says something about Natsume borrowing some clothes to sleep in.

They’re not that different in height, at least; Subaru is a little bigger in build, but not by much, and he goes to find something that isn’t too obnoxious to his senses. He settles on a plain black shirt and grey sweatpants, quickly changing into them and settling on the futon provided. He’s about to tuck the covers around him when something scratches at the door; they both pause, glance at the time, and Natsume opens the door for Daikichi. The little shiba wags his tail and paws at his leg until he gets down to pet him, idly scratching behind his ear for a moment before he returns to bed. Daikichi bounces to Subaru for the same treatment, then goes to his own bed and does a few turns before he flops down.

Subaru does much of the same, shifting around in bed until he finds a comfortable position. Natsume clicks the lights off, picking his way back to the futon and settling on it. The loud sounds of the outside reminds him he hadn’t closed the window all the way, and when he gets back up to do so, Subaru makes a dismissive noise.

“S’okay, I kinda wanted to look at the stars before we went to bed.”

_Then why bother getting in,_ Natsume almost asks, but he crosses his arms and asks, instead, “Is there something special going on toNIGHT?”

“Sure there is!” Subaru sits up too excitedly, and Natsume guesses the answer before it comes out of his mouth: “You’re staying over! That’s special, right? This is kind of, like, my first sleepover with a friend–”

His mouth shuts immediately, even though that’s exactly the type of thing Natsume expected, and Subaru looks the same mix of nervous and mistrustful he’d been in the classroom on their first proper meeting. Natsume looks at the telescope by the window, then crawls onto the bed with Subaru and scoots to the other side, closer to the window.

“Are we going to look or NOT, Subaru-kun? Telescopes are one of the few things I don’t have any experience WITH, so you’ll have to show me how it works if we’re going to use IT.”

Subaru stares for a moment, lips parted, and the expression - open surprise, the exact opposite of just before - is perhaps the most beautiful one Natsume’s ever seen on him. Natsume tilts his head, reaching back to take Subaru’s wrist (the skin is hot beneath his fingers, a reminder he’s holding a star barely contained in human form, unnaturally warm and at the risk of implosion with too much time, too much pressure) and tugs him. Subaru scrambles after him, ahead of him, out of his grip, and Natsume leans back on his hands to watch Subaru set things up. It’s strange to see him so quiet and concentrated at this point, but not unpleasant, with the crease in his brow contrasting the way his tongue childishly sticks out from his mouth. He joins him by the window when it seems like things are finally coming together, and Subaru moves to let him peer through it after another minute of adjustments.

The moon, half-full but incredibly bright, stares back at him. His heart thunders in his throat, finding it not quelling when Subaru leans over him to turn it and adjust a few more dials; the warmth is suffocating around him, but in a good way, and he misses it when the other moves away again. Stars twinkle in his vision now, sparkling, and he asks after them.

Subaru, happy to oblige, tells him everything and then some. Natsume knows he means it to be a whisper, but Subaru is terrible at whispering, and it sounds closer to an aside on stage, low but loud. He doesn’t mind, but he tells him to be quieter anyway, and minds even less the way his classmate moves closer so he can be heard when his voice drops into a scratchy softness, the warmth on his already heated ears. He isn’t sure how long they look at the stars, only that it feels nice to lean back against Subaru when he has to turn the telescope to find the moon again. Natsume closes his eyes, letting the soft humming of his unreluctant friend wash over him, and starts (ah, had he been falling asleep? maybe a little) when he’s gently shaken.

“Am I that comfy?” Subaru whispers poorly as ever, and his grin teases out a scowl from Natsume. He raises his hands as Natsume moves forward, laughing loudly (then slapping his hand over his mouth to quell it) when Natsume bumps face first into the telescope with a soft swear. 

Natsume, red-faced, turns around and shoves him down.

It’s not what he expects. The moonlight through the window, with the shadows of the fluttering curtains, dancing shadows across Subaru’s face; the dark cut of his own hair shading part of it too, asymmetrically drawn over an eye. Natsume stares down, breath winding tight between his ribs, and leans in.

He doesn’t mean to do it, but when he does it, he means for it to be brief. The best laid plains always go awry, and the ones thought of in the moment risk that more, because when Subaru realizes–really realizes–he arches up to kiss him back, his hands grabbing half-covered hips immediately. Natsume’s exhale stutters and catches between their connected lips, and he wants to– he _wants to–_

The night is quiet after that, the early morning hours attributing to half their exhaustion. The other half is, for Natsume at least, the twisting in his gut that snaps to the forefront of his mind the feel of Subaru’s chapped lips against his, the way he’d murmured his name (a little surprised, a little confused, a little more than desperate), the calloused hands scrunching his shirt against his waist and short nails pressing into his skin. He feels too warm for the blanket given to him, but too cold on the floor with the futon without it, and he presses his hands to his face. A shaky sigh works its way out, and Subaru shifts in his bed; Natsume holds his breath, too still to be asleep, but the other boy doesn’t wake or do anything else.

Natsume slowly gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. There is something terribly perverse about shutting the door and letting his back hit it, sliding down until he makes it to the floor, knowing his hands are going to the growing hardness in his pants, knowing the cause of it sleeps peacefully down the hall. Subaru’s mother’s room is down that way too, further, and he hopes neither of them stir to waking. He’s quiet as a mouse–the openness of his house lends itself to echoes, and he’s become practiced at putting a stopper on his noises with an increase in ordinary teenage hormones and an increased interest in the way sky blue eyes shimmer when they land on him and the way a certain voice cracks on too high a note in independent study and–and he swallows hard at the mess he makes, that voice reeling in his mind and how skin flushes in embarrassment at the snickers he gets. It’s no more than usual when thinking about things he considers himself far above, but it feels a little worse, and Natsume rests his head back against the door.

He cleans quickly, making sure to leave no evidence of something even he finds over the line, and steps quietly back into Subaru’s room–too quietly, maybe, because he doesn’t disturb the scene playing out in front of him. Or maybe Subaru just doesn’t care, or hasn’t noticed, that someone’s come in while his hand is curled around himself and he’s sprawled back, and it’s almost the stuff of his dreams. He isn’t sure what to do–leave and come back later? just sneak back into the futon? no, the second would attract his attention for sure, but there’s the risk of the same thing happening if he’s too sudden with the door–

It doesn’t matter, because Subaru’s gaze turns to the side with his head rolling to his shoulder, eyes lidded and dark, and Natsume’s name is halfway out his mouth before it ends in his throat. 

It starts again, more panicked, but Natsume shakes his head violently and leaves.

The couch isn’t so bad, and Akehoshi-san doesn’t ask why he’s sleeping on it instead of in Subaru’s room; Subaru doesn’t look at him over breakfast either, and the walk to school is as silent as the grave. Natsume keeps his gaze pointed ahead and his mind on math equations and the alchemical recipes that match them, and from the corner of his eye, Subaru looks between him and the sky above.

One of them goes to class.

Characteristically, it isn’t Natsume. He lays in his secret room and tinkers at potions, sets his dreams of a philter aside and focuses instead on more practical things that end up halfway finished or ruined by his own distraction. He leaves when he hears the final bell, not keen on being found by anyone for any reason, but finds himself pausing at the hallway to the first year classrooms.

He watches his own, ears catching a song he’d heard just last night quietly being sung, and like a sailor compelled to his death by the voice of a siren he stops in the doorway to watch Subaru attend to day duty again. 

“Subaru-kun,” he calls, some sick, eerie delight in the way Subaru’s back straightens, the line of his shoulders tense against the blackboard. Subaru looks over his shoulder, lips pressed together, and Natsume hates finding himself at a loss for words. He swallows and looks away, leaning against the frame. “Hurry and finish UP, or I’ll leave you beHIND.”

“Ah–uh, sure,” is the clumsy reply, and he ignores the way the back of his neck heats up at the quickened pace Subaru finishes at. 

They still don’t live in the same direction, but he walks far enough with Subaru that Yumenosaki Academy is a distant memory behind them, that their classmates–what ones had been leaving at the same time–have dispersed. Natsume slows to a stop, knows he should turn and go his own way, or find a shortcut back home, or something–but he finds Subaru mirroring him, and he finds the ants on the ground more interesting than anything else in the world. They march in quarter-note time, unbothered by the larger structures milling about them or by the tension in the air, the way everything seems to have stopped save for the beating of his heart in his ears, steady as their steps. 

“Subaru-kun,” he calls softly, the same time that Subaru calls his name, and it falls quiet between them again; Natsume looks over, his gaze darting away when their eyes meet, and he starts again: “Subaru-kun.”

“Sorry,” Subaru says, instead of letting him continue. Natsume closes his mouth, shoulders tensing, and Subaru’s hands can’t seem to decide where they want to be - dropped by his side, on the back of his neck, clenching. One finally settles loosely curled around his forearm, teeth pulling at his bottom lip, and he looks, for once, troubled. He has every right to be - not that Natsume feels much better, his own session left undiscovered but no less present in his mind. Subaru sways, unable to keep still as he continues in the quiet, taking advantage of the allowance Natsume’s graciously decided to give him. “It wasn’t like… I mean, you’re pretty, and I liked kissing you a whole, whooole lot, so I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

And, like Natsume, he found some release for it. Natsume feels his cheeks warm and turns them away in response, heart against his lips, threatening to jump out when Subaru shifts closer.

“I wanna stay friends with you,” Subaru says softer, still much too loud in the frozen silence around them, “but I wanna keep kissing you too, Natsume.”

“No,” he snaps immediately, despite his heart’s betrayal (quickened pace, aching in excitement). Subaru wants to keep kissing him; Subaru wants to stay friends; Subaru thinks he’s pretty; Subaru couldn’t stop thinking about him; Subaru got off to him, and the image haunts the back of his mind with the attractive flush of his skin, the husky way he’d said his name and the panicked way he’d repeated it, fright (at losing something important, not at being caught) flashing in the pretty blue eyes that mirror the sky in how wide they are. “One or the oTHER.”

He shouldn’t even give him that much of a choice, and he regrets doing so, but he waits for Subaru to choose the right one (whatever one that might be) and finds his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach as Subaru scuffs his shoe and replies, “Friends.”

Natsume doesn’t stay over again, though he does speak with Akehoshi-san when he happens to see her out; he sees her less, and her son as well, as their first year marches on, as he finds himself busier with the older students he’s eventually lumped in with at the same time. Wataru Hibiki, a magician he’s long admired, who takes his moniker of _shisho_ with a wry smile and a gracious chuckle; Shu Itsuki, whose drive for perfectionism and love of aesthetics mirrors Natsume’s own; Kanata Shinkai, who calls himself God and grants wishes with the same finesse that a crystal ball guides fortune; and Rei Sakuma, the student council president, kinder than his attitude would make him seem. 

_Natsume Sakasaki,_ he thinks to himself, _son of the world’s greatest fortune-teller and her husband, a successful entertainer, with a sharp focus pointed at his dreams._

He doesn’t forget Subaru - he watches him from afar, declining opportunities to hang out as his own time intertwines with his seniors’, and buries the tightness in his chest deep within the ground. Natsume imagines pouring concrete over it, sealing it away tightly; he dreams of it breaking through ground and stone anyway, the form of Subaru Akehoshi pulling itself from the hole and enveloping him, murmuring his name the way he’d heard it months ago, scratchy and desperate and on the edge of coming but in his ear, this time, instead of across the room, and Natsume breathes it in, fingers digging into his shirt - then his bare skin, when the dream tweaks his image - and leans up to

his alarm goes off beside him, startling him to wakefulness, and Natsume pretends his shallow breathing and the beating of his heart, the sweat soaking his clothes and the flush of his cheeks, are due to being caught off-guard by the loud ringing beside him rather than what he was awoken from.

He declines the invitation to participate in the Venus Cup, hailing Rei’s warning (despite the fact he’s no longer student council president, he remains the same kind person as before) and finding his own excuses on top of that: it doesn’t mean anything, it won’t contribute at all, especially with the new system being shuffled into place by the _new_ council president. There’s no budget, no attention given to it - it’s only for first years to play around, not make anything real of themselves. No one will see them; no one will care.

Wataru berates him with sentiments he’s not unfamiliar with when he tells him so - he feels his youth with them more than ever as the autumn chill creeps in, as his betters look more weary, more tired, when they think he isn’t looking. They’ve always babied him, expected nothing but loved him all the same, found pieces of themselves in him to protect and nurture; it frustrates him some, to be treated like a pet, but there are things behind their eyes he can’t understand, and he knows - he knows they’re right. Frustrating, but right. They pass by the auditorium where the live is to be held (“pass by,” because while Wataru might be heading straight on to see it, Natsume won’t let himself consider it) and he thinks about how Subaru’s participating, how he must be excited, how he’ll look as brilliant as his father did in those videos they watched. 

He wants to see it in the flesh, that magic he felt pulling his attention every which way, that still pulls at him and bids him to at least see a glimpse.

Once more, he buries it beneath stone, and gives another excuse to a curious Wataru: he doesn’t want to run into the teacher he’d declined the invitation from, as it might be a little awkward to turn it down on claims of business and yet show up to watch anyway. He’d only been coming in this direction with him, he continues, because of Valkyrie’s stand-off with that new unit _fine_ set to come right after, and Natsume can feel Wataru weigh the grains of truth in his words before he follows the conversation without commentary otherwise.

They still watch.

Out of sight, Natsume finds his heart bursting at the chemistry on stage - finds himself wondering if it would be the same with him up there, following Subaru’s footsteps and taking his hand, their voices mingling. The Live that follows is less idyllic; Valkyrie falls to _fine_ , a unit broken not unlike a doll dropped from too high up, and the rest of the year snowballs down.

(Happiness is fleeting.)

It’s a miracle, truly, they make it to any of each other’s Lives, that they stay standing, that they return to that abominable school when the new year turns over. Each of them are changed in some way, and Natsume finds new things to share with his so-called _niisans_. Rei Sakuma, unable to stop himself from lending a hand but keeping his distance all the same, craving bonds but burned by them; Kanata Shinkai, without purpose and going with the currents as guided by the sun (a star), unwilling and unable to grant a single request; Shu Itsuki, paralyzed by fear, anxiety gripping his throat at the sight of crowds so badly his doll begins to speak for him, a psyche split almost completely if not for the raw anger and resentment he holds for the man responsible; and Wataru Hibiki, more flippant than ever, still high upon his mountaintop but having invited his own murderer to share the space with him out of an almost scientific interest in how he worked, in how far his feelings might go.

What surprises him is this: that Subaru, who he effectively abandoned, has refused to abandon him; that Subaru lights up when he sees they share the same class again this year, that he plays the role of the initiator and goes to his desk to say hi. The first conversation they have is a little short, a little awkward, with Natsume perfumed heavily with cinnamon and vanilla and makeup around his eyes to hide the redness of them and the bags beneath them - but it’s a conversation, and Subaru seems all the happier to have it. Contrary to last year, when Natsume declines participating in class and spends his days in his secret room instead, Subaru visits him - this is annoying, as annoying as when Tsumugi peeks in to check on him and ask him this or that about Switch, but the quicker he entertains him the quicker he leaves.

He tells himself this, pretends he’s not happy to see a formerly lost star orbiting his space, and remembers Subaru is attractively, interestingly sharp the more they brush elbows - that beneath the stupidity is a mind honed by loneliness and harassment. Natsume wonders when he’s going to stop finding pieces of himself in other people - when he’s going to stop falling for the same trap that his seniors did that hurt them in the process of saving him? He forces himself back into the role of an observer, a scientist, someone only interacting with people to analyse them the way he had acted last year, and he wills himself not to falter when he’s called out about it, wills himself not to falter when he starts claiming friendship and nicknames as ways to provoke new reactions. This is why, he reasons to himself, he begins to show up in class more often, or at least shows his face outside of his secret room more often. The addition of a girl into their midst is another brilliant reason (excuse), as something like that was sure to spark something different - and it had, early in the year, and it continues to do so, and it is a fortuneteller’s job (a scientist’s job) to observe all potential changes and record them.

Subaru tells him he’s weird, then asks what experiment he’s working on this time.

Between their two units - Natsume leading Switch on paper and in spirit, Subaru acting as Trickstar’s heart and guiding star - they have little time to congregate outside of school. Subaru doesn’t ask as much, and Natsume never does, and it’s… fine, actually. Somehow, they work better like this, finding smaller moments in increasingly busy schedules. If he were romantic (and he is, but that doesn’t matter), he’d say they find ways to make time for one another in the places they can, and that isn’t necessarily wrong - but it isn’t something he admits to himself, not even when it’s far past the time they should have left the school and Subaru is a too-warm line against his side, his head on his shoulder as he watches Natsume very carefully drop materials into beakers and heat them up, the colors changing and steam rolling up from the glass. 

It’s dark when they leave again, Subaru back to bouncing on his heels, and the differences lies in only a few small things. The air is far chillier than before, most of the trees’ leaves on the ground rather than on branches where they belong. They’re bundled up a little better, and instead of Natsume wearing a long white coat, they both match with Yumenosaki blue. The streetlamps are bright lights to guide them, and when Natsume exhales, his breath comes out in a soft white puff.

“Wanna walk home together?” Subaru asks in the quiet, a forced calm to his words, and Natsume thinks - again - of how Subaru is nervous in the dark, how he usually goes home with his (many, many) friends, how it isn’t usually so late. He thinks of how their houses aren’t exactly in the same direction, how at some point much sooner than necessary he’ll have to split if he wants to really go home, and he sighs.

They walk home together, Subaru’s hand brushing against his so often. It’s maddening, every touch an annoyance building in his gut for some reason he can’t (won’t) explain, and he links them together wordlessly. It settles the anxiety brought on by being close-but-not-close, even as he pretend he doesn’t see Subaru’s surprised expression melt into happy excitement, and - well, ignoring the fact their hands swing between them in an over-the-top fashion in order to show them off to the world is a little harder, but he manages not to snap at Subaru to quit it for at least two minutes. Subaru laughs, bumping their shoulders, and squeezes his hand in reply.

But he doesn’t swing them again, and Natsume considers it a win.

The Akehoshi household hasn’t changed at all. Daikichi is still excited to see him, running to sniff his legs and paw his feet for pets once he’s greeted Subaru, and Natsume indulges him with a small smile. He can’t help it; though he might own cats and prefer them, Daikichi is charming, and giving him attention for too long makes Subaru whine. He gives him a few extra scratches before he stands back up, head tilting against his shoulder when he regards his (friend?).

“I’ll be seeing YOU, Baru-kun. Take CARE, and-”

“You’re just gonna leave?”

Natsume pauses, mouth open; Subaru stares at him, somewhat pouting, his eyebrows pressing together. Yes, that was the plan - walk Subaru home to quiet him for a few days, then go home. When he nods, Subaru closes the distance between them and slumps against him with a whiny call of his name.

“That isn’t going to convince me to STAY, Baru-kun-”

“Daikichi’ll cry if you don’t.”

Subaru frowns at him. Daikichi wags his tail, happy his name was called, but whines and looks absolutely pitiful when Subaru nudges him with his foot. Natsume stares, his heart telling him to go, go, _go_ , nothing _good_ is going to come of stepping inside that house, didn’t he remember last time-?

He remembers last time, and he settles at the table as Subaru goes to find something for them to eat. Akehoshi-san isn’t in, which isn’t a surprise; it was surprising she was home when he visited last year. They eat in quiet punctuated every so often with discussion of this or that Live, and when Subaru asks if he’s staying over, Natsume mentions it’s too late to walk home, anyway, so he might as well. Subaru looks as nervous as _he_ feels, something restless beneath his skin reflected in the way the other bounces upstairs to get things ready almost as soon as Natsume voices his agreement. Once dishes are taken care of, clothes are changed (separately - Subaru is changed by the time Natsume gets up there, and Subaru goes to leave his mom a note or lock up or… or something, whatever, when Natsume changes - and the futon is as comfortable as it was before.

The moon shines between the curtains, the telescope ever-present in Subaru’s room easier to see the more his eyes adjust to the darkness, and he sits up from the floor. Subaru’s awake, too; he can tell, his breathing not as deep and even as if he were sleeping, and his face turns towards Natsume once he realizes he’s not the only one up. Neither of them look away, this time, and Natsume leans closer, slides his hands onto the bed until he can pillow his head in his arms, pressed close against the mattress’ side.

“The sky was clear on the way HERE,” he not-quite whispers, voice soft but not soft enough for that. Subaru frowns slightly, like he isn’t sure what he’s getting at - and maybe he doesn’t, because he’s sharp but he’s _stupid,_ and Natsume sighs as he turns gaze to the telescope. “I can’t sleep anyWAY, and neither can YOU. Let’s watch the stars for a little BIT.”

“Oh,” Subaru replies, and then moves to the other side of his bed, feet landing softly on the ground. “Sure! But-”

And Natsume can tell.

He’s thinking about the kiss last year, just like Natsume’s thought about that kiss from last year, and he’s following that train of thought from that night, and Natsume is following him across the bed, hands alighting on his shoulders briefly (but enough to startle Subaru from thinking) with a sigh.

“I know how to use a telescope NOW, so it isn’t as if you’ll have to show ME.”

Nothing like last year will happen again, because the past is in the past; the present and future are all they must attend to, and while Subaru can’t possible understand that’s the sentiment here, he makes a show of sighing and being disappointed before, with the ease of movement he has getting to his telescope and setting it up belying his relief, sitting down to watch the stars with him. They look up positions on their phones, tinkering here and there; there’s no talking, and Natsume thinks he likes it better like this. Quiet, a pleasant warmth beside him. He yawns an hour into their stargazing, eliciting a tease from his company that he ignores. He doesn’t ignore, however, Subaru leaning against him with a similar yawn, heavy enough that they hit the ground, and

it’s opposite of before, Subaru on him, framed by moonlight rather than by shadow. Subaru props himself up on his elbow, eyes alight with nervous curiosity, and Natsume finds in himself looking the same reflected in his eyes. He hesitates, then arches up before Subaru has the chance to make the first move.

The kiss, like last time is not brief - but it wasn’t meant to be, his tongue running along Subaru’s lips and slipping in when they part. Subaru sinks closer to the ground again, his weight pressing Natsume back down, a warm and intoxicating heaviness that matches the sigh breathed through his nose. Subaru murmurs his name, hush and between breaths, and Natsume wonders why, why that’s the first instinct humans have to intimacy - to call their partner’s name, as if to remind them they’re there, that they’re them. 

And then he wonders if Subaru knows his hands are drawing electric lines down his stomach, fingertips sparking beneath the band of his borrowed sweat pants. He bites at his chapped lips to deter Subaru and turns his face once he’s free of being kissed, breath rushing out in a soft gasp as Subaru’s fingers curl beneath his underwear, and he struggles to catch it again to ask his unreluctant partner what he thinks he’s doing. To his credit, Subaru doesn’t look like he knows, either; he doesn’t remove his hand, only slides it around to his waist rather than to places growing harder by the moment. At least he isn’t the only one, and it’s embarrassing, how easily they turn on. Teenagers, mindless meatsacks at the mercy of their hormones -

(though this doesn’t happen often enough to say that with any truth; it’s only ever Subaru, Subaru, Subaru…)

\- he doesn’t apologize for getting handsy, but asks if he can touch Natsume; Natsume’s breath stutters in his chest the way a bird finally finding its cage is open and it’s free, panicked to get out and taste the air once more, does. He acquiesces on the caveat that he touches Subaru first, and he spends the next minute feeling toned muscle and the way it contracts beneath the flat of his fingers, the tautness on his palms and Subaru’s breath hot against his ear. He’s no better, he knows; not even preparing himself could really prepare him for Subaru’s hands, snaking around his waist, crawling up his back - like he has to map out every inch of Natsume, know every piece, or he’ll die in the wasteland known as Natsume Sakasaki, one of the Five Oddballs of Yumenosaki Academy. They migrate slowly to the bed, Subaru pushing him up against the side of it instead of getting on it proper, and this is fine; sitting up makes kissing easier, makes sliding clothing off quicker, and Natsume wraps his hand around the both of them, forehead pressed against Subaru’s shoulder.

He can live without looking; he’d prefer not to, his eyes closed to even what he’s doing. Sex is dirty and disgusting, but there’s a terrible beauty in it - in this in particular, from the heart, the whine of his name on Subaru’s lips the sweetest symphony he’s heard as he starts slow, drawing it out. He’s not oblivious to his own mouth moving, but his blood is hard in his ears the way Subaru is hard in his hand, and he can’t hear anything but the harshness of his breath (their breathing) and feel the slick of precum and sweat on his thighs. Coming is a quiet affair, and Natsume leans his head back on the bed, eyes slowly fluttering open as he registers the situation. His mind stops almost immediately as Subaru falls against him, lazily kissing his neck, his collarbones, his jaw, wherever he feels like wandering, and Natsume stutters through his name, hands (one cleaner than the other) dragging up the knots in his spine and dragging into his hair, curling there and

not pulling away, the way he thinks they should be doing, but keeping him there; and when things finally settle, and they can make it into bed, they do, and sleep comes much too easy after that.

Waking up is more difficult, the weight of what they’d done laying heavy on his chest in the form of one too warm first magnitude star. Subaru is lovely to look at when his mouth isn’t moving; he can’t say when it’s closed, with its parted lips and breath drifting in and out of it, but when it isn’t moving, well. That works out. Natsume rolls his head onto his shoulder, watching the other sleep, and pets his head idly. A bark at the door interrupts him - makes his hand jolt away, his head banging back against the headboard to the effect of a splitting headache; to top it all off, Subaru’s alarm goes off right beside them, cheerful and loud. Natsume squeezes his eyes against the pain and pounding in his head, feeling Subaru shift and groan on top of him. When he opens his eyes, slowly, Subaru’s staring at him, eyebrows pressing together.

Then it’s their lips, Subaru pulling back with a soft “morning,” and Natsume is perfectly, completely, _keenly_ aware:

He’s in trouble. 

Or, as someone more crass might put it, he’s fucked.

Subaru doesn’t untangle easily, and maybe this is both their fault - a mess of limbs and sweat and lazy kisses when mouth gets close enough to skin, and Natsume wants to tell him to cut it out but it feels nice, too. A private thought he won’t allow out of his head, he won’t let his hands write in white lines dragged down sun-kissed skin; he’s compliant in being touched and pet and grinded against, returning it in kind with little nips and playful teases that have Subaru whining softly in his ears,

until it becomes too much for his waking mind, and then he pushes the other off with a soft huff, both delighted and annoyed by the confused, frustrated look and sound he’s treated to.

“We have SCHOOL,” he replies, the irony of him being the one to remind them of this fact not lost on him (or on Subaru, it seems, whose look now reminds him that Natsume doesn’t even go to class on a _good day_ ), and continues with a bit of a better reason: “Your mother is probably home by NOW. Even if she’s tiRED, your dog will want IN, and if he makes too much NOISE–”

“I got iiiiiiiiiiiiiit,” Subaru whines semi-loudly, burying himself back into bed despite his words. “I got it, Natsume~. Can we just kiss for a little longer though? I really, really liked it, and I really, really like the way you look and sound and–”

Natsume’s face feels like it’s burning, and he grabs Subaru’s pillow to shove onto said boy’s head, pushing him down into the blankets without heeding his squawk of surprise.

“NO.”

He holds him there for a little longer, then lifts the pillow once he’s sure his face has cooled to a regular temperature; in exchange, Subaru’s is bright red from exertion, his fluffy hair more unruly than usual. It’s a good look on him, and Natsume’s lips curl up in quiet approval. Subaru huffs at him, and after a few more squabbles of a similar nature (some of which Natsume lets him win, though he’d never admit to that), they head downstairs. Subaru heads out first to walk Daikichi a little, while Natsume finds leftovers to serve as a quick breakfast; they eat and head to school, hands brushing against each other.

There’s no annoyance building in his chest at the feeling though, and he wonders if it’s because he managed to get all of his touchiness out last night - this morning - if it will return in the afternoon - such base desires intrinsically and intricately woven in the very matter that makes up mankind, that (being human) he’s made of the same. They part in the school proper, Subaru’s pout cute but ineffective in getting him to come to class, but the grin and peck on the cheek that follows promises visits to the underground archives later in the day. Natsume’s skin burns where it’s kissed, and he covers it, glancing around.

No one.

He keeps it covered on the way to his secret room, as if moving his hand will reveal to anyone he passes that the sun itself pressed its flares to his cheek; he plays it off neatly with his arm crossed beneath it, looking particularly broody, and rests against the heavy wooden door that leads to his private space. He counts prime numbers in his head, traces alchemy equations on the stained wood, yet only feels safe and hidden once the door clicks behind him.

His thoughts remain clear and sated until lunch comes around, and Tsumugi enters to check on him - to check about something Switch is doing (or isn’t doing), to show him the outfit he’s been working on. All normal things, and he thinks he reacts fairly normally (for him), but on his way out Tsumugi sighs happily and comments that he’s glad Natsume is in a good mood (he didn’t even hit him once this time!) and compliments the way he smells.

The door shuts before Natsume has time to ask what he means, and then he’s pressing his nose to his shoulder, breathing deeply. It _is_ a nice smell, but it’s the same as yesterday, which means it’s obvious that he hadn’t gone home, and Tsumugi knows it, and-

Subaru visits in the afternoon, coughing when he opens the door. Natsume breathes in fresher air than what’s available this deep within Yumenosaki Academy, perfumed scents flowing easily from the room. “I’m making a new SCENT,” he says before Subaru has a chance to ask, and Subaru makes a face but sits down. Outside the room, pointedly enough, the door left open with his foot as the stopper.

“Kinda surprised you can breathe in there,” he mumbles loud enough for Natsume to hear, and Natsume purses his lips but agrees silently; really, it’d been becoming a little much, so the open door and distraction is more welcome than he’d like to admit. Schoolwork from the day gets shoved in after a moment, and after another, Subaru recounts the day to him - how Ukki~ embarrassed himself in front of Anzu again, how Hokke~ wouldn’t let him tease Ukki~ about it, how Sari~ couldn’t come to practice because of Student Council duties so they just decided to take a break for the day, which is why he’s here now, and he didn’t have day duty either (that was Anzu’s job today!) so he’s free even earlier, and if Natsume could wrap this up soon, they could even walk home together before it gets too dark, and–

“Why does it matter if it’s dark or NOT?” Natsume asks, not lifting his gaze, and he can tell by the sharp way Subaru drops his words that he hadn’t expected the question - but it’s been one on his mind for a year and a half, and he raises his gaze to the ball of sunshine sitting in the doorway. “WELL? Are you afraid of it or someTHING?”

“…I just don’t like it,” Subaru answers after a longer pause than necessary, faced turned away. “I mean, the stars and nice and all, and it’s great with a friend, but it’s cold now~.”

That isn’t the reason, because it wasn’t cold the first time they walked home together, and Natsume stares at him. Dissecting other people’s intentions and words is his trade, albeit a terrible habit, and he finds holes in every one of them the closer he looks. When he points it out - that it wasn’t cold last summer - the line of Subaru’s shoulders tense up.

“Just forget it~! I really don’t get it when you get like this, Natsumeee~.” Subaru stands and complains instead of answering further, an even bigger tell than before, but

Natsume isn’t going to let this end like this, not when something interesting is so close at hand, and he’s grateful, really, for the idol training that allows him to rise and quickly step over to the doorway, that allows him to grab Subaru’s wrist and tug him back. He’s less grateful for the fact that Subaru isn’t expecting it and trips over his own feet, crashes them both to the ground. When he looks up, Subaru is too close, again, and he wets his lips.

“I’ll kiss you if you tell ME,” he murmurs, brushing their noses together. Subaru bites the inside of his lip, gaze darting away, and softly repeats what he said - half of what he said. He just doesn’t like it. It’s probably the best answer he’s going to get, even if it isn’t the whole one, but he still asks for clarification - if Subaru doesn’t like it in general, or if he doesn’t like it when he’s alone.

Second, Subaru admits almost too softly for him to hear. He doesn’t mind being out with people, but he doesn’t like being in the dark alone. He isn’t scared or anything, he continues even as Natsume tilts his head closer, it’s just - too cold without anyone around. Funny, Natsume murmurs back, when Subaru makes his own light and warmth, and the kiss is sweeter than he means it to be, maybe, but it’s important to reward good behavior, and the way the tension doesn’t quite leave Subaru delights him in no small part.


End file.
